


Special Effects

by tasteofhysteria (orphan_account)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Zombies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tasteofhysteria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little zombie apocalypse AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Effects

Francis sighed as he surveyed the spattered mess of decayed body fluids all over…well,  _everything._

“Really, mon grand,” he spoke in a despairing singsong, turning to look at Ludwig over his shoulder with a disapproving look. “I do  _realise_ that your little handbook says that the best way to get rid of these eyesores is a bash à la tête but this is a bit  _too much._ ”

“If you would like to talk about what is  _too much_ , Francis, then we should talk about how much energy you waste trying to dispose of them  _stylishly_ ,” Ludwig retorted sourly, taking the rag that Francis held out as a silent offering with a quick nod, wiping the cruor from his face and hands with quick, efficient movements. Francis stiffened beside him and Ludwig could tell without looking that the Frenchman was giving him A Look, one that consisted of Francis having crossed his arms and tilted his chin up to stare down his nose at the German, regardless of the centimetres of difference in height between them.

“At least I,” Francis stated woodenly, “do not come out of these altercations looking more like a zombie than the ones I just did away with. On top of that, you  _know_ that their blood is acidic and clothing does not grow on trees. And we cannot precisely pick up a new pair of gloves for your hands either…”

He tsked and snatched the stained cloth away, wetting it with a bit of water from their few supplies and scrubbed determinedly at Ludwig’s hands until the skin went slightly pink under his ministrations. Ludwig cleared his throat uncomfortably, lifting his eyes to run over the exposed pipes that twisted together to make the backbone of the abandoned carpet factory they’d been forced to take cover in as night fell.

“Francis,” he said at last, “you really don’t have to—”

The Frenchman glanced up at him in surprise, his too-long hair falling across his face and making him look younger than he was. To the German’s surprise, Francis merely gave him a small smile and looked back down at Ludwig’s hands, his motions with the cloth becoming slower and more gentle.

“Perhaps not,” he replied quietly. “But I want to.”


End file.
